Sapien
by Rorudesu-chan
Summary: Five years later, the Free Pact Alliance was losing the war against the Zogilians. But Dio Weinberg never lets his heart rule over his head. He struggles to strengthen his resolve to keep fighting using the only way he knows how—by being an Ensign.
1. Chapter 1

**author's note:**

So I've had this story in my files for quite sometime now. And I'm still deciding if I should continue it or not. I love Buddy Complex and I can't wait for season two! I'm convinced that Sunrise makes the best mecha animation. BuddyCom is next to Gundam Wing in my heart.

Lemme know what you think of this story, k? :)

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><p><strong>Sapien<strong>

_Rorudesu-chan_

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

The year was 2089.

On a winter day in New York City, Dio downed a glass of whiskey in an attempt to kick back and let loose. Of course for someone like Dio Weinberg, the idea of having fun was confined to any kind of activity done in solitude. Captain Gengo Kuramitsu dispatched his crew members earlier that day on the premise that everyone in the Cygnus battleship deserved a holiday for a day or two, three at most. And why not? It was the end of the year, the end of a long, tiring year fighting off the enemies of the Free Pact Alliance.

This generosity, however, was frowned upon by a certain blonde Ensign who took polite cares in addressing the need to stay onboard in case the Zogilians decide to attack the New York base. The Ensigns, at least, should stay alert for enemy clusters lurking about. It was of utmost importance, he said to the captain whose drowsy-looking eyes and a lopsided smile pleaded for Dio to convince him otherwise. But Dio's efforts were futile. Much thanks to his coupling buddy, Watase Aoba. He literally dragged Dio outside his cabin and pushed him down the ramp of the airship's entrance.

"Merry Christmas, Dio!" greeted Petty Officer Mayuka that afternoon.

"Why so serious?" said Fromm, helping Dio to his feet. The coupler nearly slipped again as he was currently without snow boots like the rest.

"Christmas?" asked Aoba, easing down the icy ramp. "You guys still celebrate Christmas in this decade?"

"We're not _that_ advanced in the future. Sorry to be a disappointment, Aoba." Elvira tossed her ginger hair and hooked her arm to Lee's.

"Let's go!" Anessa mimicked the scientist's gesture of affection by latching onto Fromm. "We have a lot of shopping to do!"

She dragged Mayuka along who stole a glance at the pilots who were being left behind. A raven-haired girl approached Aoba with a silent, endearing smile. The ex-Zogilia pilot's presence was a hindrance to her feelings toward the boy from the past. But seeing the happiness constant in Aoba's disposition meant that there was a fair chance he didn't have the desire to return to his time anymore. Everything was at peace, thought Mayuka. That is until the elite coupler decides to pick a fight with him.

"Aoba, you idiot!" Dio brought a fist to Aoba's cheek. Along the way, he'd learned how to dramatically exclaim his name, complementing it with a fist or two whenever his coupling buddy miserably fails the soldier's standard of conduct.

"What the hell, Dio?!" Aoba retaliated with a kick to his coupling buddy's shin.

Dio was about to deliver his left hook when Hina stepped in. "Please stop this, Dio."

"What's the matter with you? Can't stay away from your Bradyon Next for too long?" Aoba rubbed the sore spot on his cheek. "Or is it _me_ you can't bear to stay away from?" He laughed and added, "Sorry, Dio. But I owe Hina a date today." Aoba's comment caused Hina's cheeks to color considerably.

"Tch," muttered Dio. He started walking off the opposite direction.

"That's all the fight you've got?" said Aoba. "What's wrong with him? He's all over the place!" he turned to the girl beside him. Aoba took Hina's hand and led her to a car nearby. He wasn't about to let a selfish coupler like him ruin his day with the beautiful Hina.

-o0o-

Dio asked the bartender to fill up his glass again. The events of that afternoon were still nagging at the back of his head. He wanted to blur the memories with as much alcohol his system could take. He might as well take advantage of the three-day holiday the captain gave the Cygnus crew.

There was an aftertaste in each swig of whiskey he took. Not bitter, not sweet, but the pang of truth and realization found in Aoba's words. The idiot was right. He was all over the place. Not one to succumb easily to his emotions, Dio decided today would be one of those exceptions. It wasn't just the people and the weather. It was the day itself: the twenty-fourth of December.

"Another, sir?"

"Yeah," he breathed and tilted his glass.

Sax and piano filled up the pub's entertainment menu by eight. An olive-skinned woman in a sleek black dress took the stage and began singing old tunes dating several decades back. A couple rose from their tables and glided smoothly to the center. They seemed to have led the others to the dance floor as well. Meanwhile the music of the evening lulled those in the corners. Their concealment in the dimly-lit spaces of the bar proved comfort to their souls. The only other sound that seemed to clash with the jazz n' blues was the distinct voices that came off from a television. It hung at a convenient space beside the shelf of shot glasses and beer mugs. Tonight's program was an interview with a couple of New York's finest about how these individuals celebrated Christmas amidst the ongoing war with the Zogilia Repulic.

Dio's right cheek was leaning heavily on the base of his palm. There was a glazed look in his eyes. A thought played in his mind—fate had a way of teaching him he didn't deserve any happiness. The other thought which persisted from being muddled by his alcohol intake was his mental calculation of the temperature outside the bar. He spun lazily around his barstool. People were coming in and out of the place. They were mostly Americans. The men's moustaches were peppered with snow, as were the ladies' velvet coats and knee-high boots. For a moment there, he felt absolutely ridiculous in his neatly-pressed, white Valiancer pilot uniform. The red scarf that Aoba carelessly wound around his neck when he dragged him out of his cabin was probably the only thing that spoke of his ignorance to the city's climate. Never mind. He took another swig from his glass. He wouldn't want to stay long in this place anyway.

Dio Weinberg made his way home to the White Swan at around two or three. Maybe at four a.m. Actually, he'd rather not remember. He fumbled with his room's passkey when his phone seemed to have jumped out of his pants first. He only bent down to pick it, but suddenly found himself diving head first on the carpeted floor. The hallway was quiet. Aside from the light beeping sounds coming from the control room two floors below, there was no cheerful female chatter, no boisterous male chuckling—indicating the absence of his co-pilots and the crewmembers. The corners of his lips turned upward. Bliss.

He laid there for as long as he could remember. The door to his room remained shut. The room's passkey was still tucked somewhere inside the pocket of his pants. Before drifting off to sleep, he mustered the strength to reach his phone and tap its screen awake with his index finger. Several messages waited to be read. He scrolled down, down, and saw, through half-lidded eyes, Watase Aoba's name, Elvira's, Fromm's, Jarl's, and even Hina's. He only opened one text message. Aoba's probably. Dio summarized it into, '_Go home, idiot_.'

And then there was the matter of the missed calls. Surprisingly, none of them were Aoba's. They were not even from any of the Cygnus members, but from one lone person. _Weinberg_, _Fiona_. The name registered on the screen shot him awake. He could feel the blood rushing in his head. Dio sat up and tried to keep his focus. He opened the messaging application and typed with trembling thumbs: _Sorry, Fiona. Big brother was on an important assignment. Don't worry. I didn't forget._ He sent the text right away. He'd call, but he would rather not wake up Fiona and risk letting her know his current state through slurred speech. Dio followed it up with another message seconds later: _Did you make sure to bring the right flowers? Mother would love pansies on her grave. _Dio only hoped that with his current state, he didn't commit any typos.

The next morning, he checked his phone to see if his little sister called again. The throbbing pain in his head grew undeniably worse when it came to him that the last message was sent to a contact number registered under the name, _Watase_,_ Aoba_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sapien**

_Rorudesu-chan_

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

Year 2082. Berlin Base, Germany.

The intruder had so carelessly tripped the cockpit's security system, quickly alarming the Bradyon Next's pilot. Dio fired three warning shots before finally deciding to tackle the intruder.

_Du Hurensohn_!

The blonde Ensign had the trespasser on his chest, face flat against the cold, concrete pavement. He twisted the arms and locked them to the small of the intruder's back, earning him another fair amount of German insult. The intruder's legs kicked wildly, but Dio hit the spot around the hips causing a temporary paralysis from the waist down. _Fick Dich_!

"Well, fuck you too," said the Ensign in his own language. Dio wasn't particularly fond of cursing. In fact, he was above it. Verbal tactics like that was just as bad as going against an enemy with a wooden sword. Not that he had anything against the Kendo Era of Japan. The future was about the Nectoribium and the Valiancer. Speaking of which, the latter seemed to radiate an appeal so irresistible it attracted even common thieves such as the one he had currently pinned down on the ground.

"You're after _this_?" Dio looked up, having less regard for the intruder now. The Bradyon Next towered over them in all its combatant glory. It came as a surprise to the Ensign that a petty thief would actually attempt to steal his Valiancer unit right then and there inside the Swan, without even any accomplice. Who on earth would send this guy? The Zogilians could not be this stupid and desperate.

Without wasting another breath, Dio took full custody of the intruder. He took pleasure in pulling the black ski mask off his head in one swift motion. Long, golden curls tumbled down, falling past _her _shoulders.

"Liesel?"

He took a closer inspection by carefully turning the girl about. Dark emerald eyes stared back at him in disdain. She kept a stiff upper lip and her mouth parted only to release another string of German insults.

"Haven't you learned to tame that tongue?" Dio held her head down by the neck. He was careful now not to put so much of his weight above her.

"Only when I'm around you, Dio," she replied in the same language that he spoke.

Dio felt somewhat at ease. He didn't have to fumble words in German and lose his poise along the way. It was nice to know that Liesel hadn't forgotten her Japanese even though she and her nanny had parted a long way since.

"I don't know what got in this head of yours, but I suggest you go back to your room before anyone else sees you."

"I can't go walking around wearing this tacky costume?" Liesel referred to her almost ingenious fashion choice of a black ski mask, a loose jersey and a pair of shabby-looking trousers.

"Did you think you could really pull this off? From what I remember, you can't even get your father to let you take driving lessons."

"Oh Dio, stop underestimating my talents. I have countless ways." Liesel tried to wring her wrists free of her capturer's firm grip.

"One that includes a secret alliance with the Zogilians?"

"You read me well." She rolled her eyes in disgust. "As always."

Dio took her sarcasm as consolation for tonight's poor performance. He stood first before bringing the girl back to her feet. The pilot spun her by the shoulders and shook her. "You are mad. And you failed to amuse me, Liesel."

A strange silence passed between them. Liesel's blonde eyebrows met at the middle. "I wasn't kidding about stealing the Bradyon Next."

Dio gave her a push forward. He led her up the bridge and toward the elevator. "Once you reach your room, get rid of that outfit immediately. And if anybody asks, tell them you wanted a tour of the Cygnus and that you asked me to take you to the basement." It went unsaid that he would have a little talk later on with the man in-charged of the video camera surveillance.

"I'm not thanking you for this," said Liesel.

"_Das ist gut_," said the Ensign.

It did not matter whether she appreciated his gesture or not. He was simply trying to avoid conflict onboard. Regardless of her real intentions, Dio had to help protect the von Hirsch family name even though he was personally against their pacifist advocacies. Captain Kuramitsu and the rest of the Cygnus crew were tasked with the assignment of escorting Miss Liesel von Hirsch, the young German diplomat, back to Munich. That was also another reason why he couldn't allow Liesel's actions tainting her image, though it was pretty obvious she herself committed such petty crime of trying to steal a Valiancer.

Dio's only wish was that this encounter with Liesel von Hirsh aboard the Cygnus would be their last.

-o0o-

Year 2089. December 25th. New York Base, United States of America.

Sure enough, the following day, his partner revealed to the Cygnus crew Dio Weinberg's most embarrassing moment of his life yet. According to Aoba, he received the text message from out of the blue sometime in the wee hours of the morning. It only meant that the blonde Ensign had been out all night. Aoba's curiosity levels spiked at the misguiding phrase, '_panties on herrr grrava_,' and at the true nature of Dio's relationship with this so-called mother.

The blonde pilot was making his way to the ship's cafeteria. He grasped the walls' metal railings with one hand while the other massaged his temples. His skull felt like it was being cracked open from its base. He thought he'd hit his head hard the previous night, but if recollection served him right, he had actually been drinking his woes away in a strange city's pub along god-knows-where street. Fiona didn't call back, much to his disappointment. The only thing that could get him through the rest of the day was an injection of aspirin into his system and a good cup of coffee.

He found two of his co-pilots seated across one another at the long table. "Oi, Weinberg!" Lt. Jarl Duran called out to the Ensign.

"Come join us, Dio!" exclaimed the other Ensign, Fromm Vantarhei.

Dio raised a brow at the sight of their empty plates. Bits of scrambled egg and traces of what seemed to be pork grease indicated that the men already had their fill of breakfast. He was yet to have his, but joined them anyway as soon as he satisfied his plate with the same viands as theirs for that morning. He plopped down beside the redhead who was trying to tuck away a rather mischievous smile.

"You don't look so well, Dio," said Fromm.

"Yeah," nodded Jarl. "How was yesterday? We heard about—erhm, your _mother_." Jarl made a quick turn of his head and chortled in that direction.

"How did you…" Dio tried to recall if he ever informed anyone, besides Captain Kuramitsu, about his mother's death anniversary which was every twenty-fourth of December.

"Mind if we ask about the colors?" asked Fromm.

The lieutenant quickly added, "No, Fromm! It ain't about the colors. It's the type of cloth. The fabric's the key!"

"Oh yes, yes!" The redheaded Ensign snapped his fingers, holding back a peal of laughter. "Were they silk, Dio? Or did she like cotton? I reckon the ladies adore silk panties better… for their _grrava_."

Jarl bent forward and held himself by the stomach. Tears were welling up in his eyes and he was begging for Fromm to stop. The redhead also had just about enough. He was already snorting unabashedly, and had Corporal Rossetti been there, she would most likely be put off by Fromm's ungentlemanly way of handling Aoba's ridiculous revelation. Fromm and Jarl put all the blame on Aoba. Dio Weinberg was in no way amused at the breakfast table. He'd check in later with the captain to see if anyone had been going through his personal data files.

The blonde pilot forked a couple of scrambled eggs into his mouth and proceeded to take in chunks of the pork viand simultaneously. His senses welcomed the saltiness of the egg and the sweetness of the ham. Food was a long overdue presence in his body. He remembered not having dinner in the midst of his sole journey of merrymaking in New York.

Dio felt his headache was subsiding in an excruciatingly slow pace. He had to get that aspirin now or else he'll be tossing and turning in his bed. That didn't mean though he wouldn't come back to that bar anymore. Otherwise, he'd had to find a way to make the remaining two days worth his time and money, if not exactly productive.

"Excuse me," Dio dropped his fork and knife on his plate and rose from his seat, unable to fend off his hangover any further.

"Hey man, we're sorry!" Jarl whispered upon disclosing the culprit responsible for the joke of the day. "It's Aoba's fault."

"Aoba?"

The redhead noticed the puzzled look in Dio's eyes. "He's not fooling around, Jarl," said Fromm. "Dio looks like he doesn't really have any idea of what's going on."

"Well, should I, uh, brief him on the _panties_ matter?"

"No, no." Fromm's voice suddenly grew stern. He glanced at his wristwatch. "We should be heading off to the basement now."

"But don't you think Captain Kuramitsu will find it suspicious that we're all down there?"

"Not _all _of us, Jarl." Fromm smiled. "You're welcomed to join us Valiancer pilots, if you want, Dio."

"Just what exactly is going on? You planned a secret meeting behind the captain's back?" Dio's voice rose. His state of apparent confusion was only making his headache worse.

"Because we don't know until it's been confirmed, Dio," Jarl assured the blonde Ensign.

Fromm looked around the cafeteria and huddled closer to his companions. "It's just a hunch." Fromm lowered his tone. "But we think the captain's hiding something from us."

"What would that be?" asked Dio.

"It didn't take long for the genius Elvira to find out. Now she's having doubts whether she's supposed to tell Lt. Kleinbeck about it."

Dio grunted and rubbed his temples. He was already thinking of strangling Fromm if he kept up with his slow rate of disclosing 'unofficial' top secret information.

Jarl relieved him. "The Free Pact Alliance is losing the war. We're not here for a holiday at all. We're currently at the New York base hiding from the Zogilia Republic."

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><p><strong>author's note:<strong>

This story moves back and forth in the present and past. I hope it won't cause confusion in the chapters to come. As always, reviews are love love love! :)


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